Beasts of Hunger
by ERR0R C0DE 404
Summary: Gilbert knows their history, knows the stories of their kind being mistreated, owned as pets, killed, simply for for what they were. What they are. He is the leader of the Shifters and his people want revenge. [prucan]


They were rare, though not an unheard of breed. Most viewed them as vicious monsters, things from hell, to be feared and spoken of in hushed tones. All because they had the ability to shift from man to beast. Gilbert doesn't truly know how long they've been around, his people, but their roots trace back as far as history itself. It's his understanding that they've always existed, always evaded the Fiura, always protected one another. And he swore an oath to do the same, to bring together and protect his kind from the things that threaten them.

And so he sits, leader of the Lykos. Leader of the Shifters.

* * *

Their den was hidden, deep in the forest under the cover of many trees and mountains, far from the villages of men. Gilbert looked over the encampment, as the sun finally began to rise, its rays already warm against his neck.

His people had lived in the area for many years, having left their old den when he was barely a pup. And since, they had called the base of a large mountain home. At the time, they had been small of numbers, their clan barely more than 6, but through the hard effort of his grandfather and the surviving Beilschmidt men, they had gathered more than 30 of their kind. Bringing them to the safety of the new den.

Gilbert closed his eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of the woods; of the freshwater lake not far away, and that of the mountain breeze.

"Gilbert?" A voice spoke up and he turned, calm in the presence of his best friend and greatest ally.

"Antonio." He greeted, beckoning for his friend to join him.

They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of the den, sun rising and casting a glow across the collection of small dwellings, all similar in build but distinctly obvious to who each belonged.

"It's beautiful." Antonio said, though this particular comment was spoken almost daily from him in regards to the weather.

Still, Gilbert agreed, weather or village. Hard work or sunshine. It was a beautiful day and a beautiful sight.

"Ludwig will be back soon." Antonio mentioned, trying to keep his tone casual, but Gilbert had known him long enough to know Antonio was anxious.

"He will be." Gilbert nodded, finally sweeping his eyes back to his friend.

Antonio watched as other members of their clan began to rise and emerge from their homes. "Do you think he found others?"

"Perhaps," Gilbert shrugged, "or perhaps not."

Antonio frowned, a line forming between his eyebrows. "And suppose he does?"

"We will bring them in like we have all the others." Gilbert said, repeating the same line he had since the day Ludwig had come to him with rumours of Lykos living within a village hardly a fortnights travel from their den.

"And suppose they don't fit with us?" Antonio asked, his tone biting. "Suppose they're like the last ones we found from a village of Fiura?"

"We will handle it, Antonio." Gilbert sighed.

"Like we did last time?" Antonio hissed. "We need to be more cautious. We need to be careful. The Fiura may have ruined these ones too."

"We will be careful. What happened last time..." Gilbert clenched his jaw and turned away. He shook his head, pressing the memories away for what time he could. "What happened last time was unfortunate. We won't make the same mistakes."

"I hope not. For I shudder to think it's your brother who is to lead them here. If something were to happen to him on the way..."

Gilbert turned, eyes glaring. "He's fine. He's strong. That is why he is the leader of the scouts. I trust him."

"And I, you." Antonio said earnestly, before giving a small sigh. "I'm just anxious, Gilbert, apologies."

Gilbert let himself smile knowingly. They had grown up together, in close quarters. Of course he knew what his best friend was feeling. "No grievance. We will greet them together and I will trust your judgement as I trust that of my own brother."

"Gratitude." Antonio smiled. "And should today go well... Celebrations are to be prepared, food and sleeping arrangements made."

"See to it," Gilbert said, "Perhaps put Lovino and Feliciano to work with you, as well. They could use the distraction."

Antonio gave a nod and headed down the steep ridge to the den.

Gilbert let out a small breath. He had no time for anxieties, no time to feel doubt. His people needed a strong leader, and that would be him.

Sparing one last look at the rising sun, he began his way down the ridge, mind racing with plans for the day.

* * *

"They're back!" Feliciano yelled, sticking his head through the weaved fabric door of Gilbert's dwelling.

Gilbert rose from his seat, where he had been overlooking a map of the lands, drawn by the hands of his grandfather. "Thank you, Feli. I'll be there in a moment."

Feliciano grinned at him and hurried away, excited for the arrival of the others.

Gilbert took a deep breath and steadied himself on the table. Eyes closed, he traced his fingers over the marking on his arm, the symbol of the Beilschmidt clan, a thick black cross of even sides, and whispered a quiet prayer. " _Fenrir, unser vater_... Please don't let this end like last time."

Steeling himself, Gilbert popped his neck and rolled his shoulders.

It was time to reunite with his people, and hopefully, the new Lykos Ludwig had spoken of.

Gilbert swept aside the heavy fabric, exiting his dwelling with easy strides. Around him, the den was bustling with life, all eyes and bodies gravitating towards the path to the forest, where Gilbert could hear many voices. The most comforting of all being a gruff, low voice that belonged to none other than his younger brother.

Gilbert pressed past the final cluster and broke into a wide grin at the sight before him. Ludwig stood tall and strong and exactly as Gilbert remembered, not a single scratch upon his body.

Their eyes met and Ludwig released the reigns of the horse he had been guiding to that of the nearest person, and smiled tiredly as he approached. "Brother." He greeted, reaching out and grasping Gilbert's hand.

Gilbert placed his other hand on Ludwig's shoulder, relief evident on his face. "It's good to see you in one piece, Ludwig."

"And you, brother." Ludwig cast his eyes over the den, sweeping them quickly over the faces of his people. Comforted to be home again.

"How did you fair?" Gilbert asked, among the scouts were new faces, five of which he didn't recognise. "Were there any problems?"

"The only problem was that of the long travel. The roads are rough and without care for travellers." Ludwig turned to face the others. "We had no problems gathering them or leaving the village."

Antonio, who had quietly come to Gilbert's side as he arrived, eyed the new Lykos. "And what of them?"

"From what I can tell," Ludwig commented, eyes flicking between the two, "They are good people. Perhaps a bit rough around the edges, and without knowledge of our people and what we are, but not bad." His voice softened as he spoke. "They have been through a lot and the journey was long. I think some rest would be of a great comfort to all of us."

Gilbert nodded his head. "Antonio, have the horses tended to and fresh water brought to our guests."

Antonio nodded, about to leave and heed his orders when Ludwig spoke up again.

"There's one," He gestured to one of the men, who stood tall and if possible, in an even deeper need of a wash than Ludwig. "His name is Alfred, and he seems to be somewhat of a leader to them."

Ludwig gazed at Gilbert with tired eyes. "I suggest you speak to him. He has much to tell you."

With that Ludwig gave him a curt nod and headed back to the group of Lykos, beckoning and leading them toward the center of the den.

Gilbert shared a look with Antonio, one he would admit was apprehensive, but when his friend gave a small smile, he returned it.

* * *

There were five of them; Alfred, their apparent leader, included. Four men and one woman. They looked rough; tired and pensive. The tallest man of the group had a scar on his forehead, from his hairline straight through his eyebrow.

As Gilbert maneuvered about, trying to convince the rest of the clan to give them a bit of space for the time being, he watched and examined them.

The first thing of note he found was that they dressed differently than the rest of them. Gilbert and the members of the den were in various states of undress, wearing only fur pelt skirts and leather chest pieces. Some wore but a slip of fur to cover their vulnerability.

The new Lykos wore fabrics, heavy and thick, over their entire bodies. But what Gilbert found most curious of all; was that they wore many different types of fabrics, many different layers. Yet over their feet was a single, thin strip of fabric, nothing that would protect the tender skin from harsh ground.

Their eyes were wary, watching the members of the den as though suspicious of them. Which Gilbert couldn't argue with, they were new to the land and had yet been given reason to trust them.

The man with the scar spoke to the woman. Her hair was tied back with a long dark ribbon, keeping it away from her face. She had sharp features, not uncommon for the Lykos.

Alfred stood closest to the people of the den, almost as if shielding the groups from each other. Unlike his companions and the scouts, his eyes were wide awake and alert to everything around him. Gilbert knew instantly; he would be a good hunter.

The next man, appearing to be the oldest of the group by a few moon cycles, stood close to Alfred, his bright green eyes taking in their surroundings. Every so often he would point to something or mutter. His eyebrows alone left Gilbert certain that there was no doubt he was one of them.

The last of their group stood by himself, his head down. Tired, Gilbert imagined, from their long travel. He couldn't distinguish any of the man's features, save for the mop of honey coloured ringlet curls that hung around his downcast head.

Around each of their necks, Gilbert noticed, hung chains of metal and leather, weaved together.

Feliciano had made it his job, after seeing to the scouts, to bring water to the newcomers. He pressed a cup into each of their hands, smiling and greeting them as a friend. More wary of the newcomers, Lovino had hung back, watching his brother for the time being. After a hesitant moment he brought a cup to the lone standing man, who Feliciano hadn't gotten to yet.

Gilbert caught Antonio's eye, from where he too had been watching Lovino, though incredibly more pensively. He beckoned Antonio to join him and the together, they made their way over to finally greet the newcomers.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

Anything you don't understand; terms, words, back story, etc, will be explained later in the story.

" _Fenrir, unser vater,_ " translates to " _Fenrir, our father,_ "

The Fiura aren't exactly human.

Lykos is Greek for wolf. They are called both Lykos and Shifters... *jazz hands*

Likes/favs are appreciated, reviews are loved!


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